Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity (11 page)

So. Akron had called. He wanted this done with real humans. And here, Len was beginning to think Akron had shelved him, what with an extended vacation at Bora Bora, followed by weeks of tedium that Len called a life. It felt good to get back into the ring. He was also overseeing the new recruit, Stanislaw over there. Len watched the guy spin his lens, focusing on the roof containing one high perched Hunter. Stan was dressed in nondescript khaki slacks, an almost-matching shade of shirt and jacket, and a baseball cap. It was getting plastered to him with the rain. Len was a match, although his attire was black, and he’d foregone a hat. He was having the same issue with the heat and humidity. Everything stuck. Defined. He hadn’t wasted any of his off time on his butt. He’d been at the gym every day. He’d had to move up a t-shirt size because of it. Not Stan. Len hoped Stan had more to him than it looked. The guy was thin. Wiry. Hungry-looking. Then again, Len hadn’t much knowledge of eastern bloc army life.

Back to the job at hand. The Hunters. They were absolute bastards. Zero compassion. And zero integrity. Len had learned that from his recent stint in Texas. He wasn’t interested in a replay of being in their hands. Wait a minute...

Len sucked in on a cheek as if pondering light. There was another Hunter on the ground level, just inside the aperture their vampire probably used. He’d moved. Sneaky bastard. That made four of them at Ta Prohm. Another six in complexes he and Stan had walked through. Probably more in the ones they hadn’t visited. Some days it was a pure pleasure to eliminate them, especially as poorly as they staked a place out.

Look at the first one Len had spotted. On their left at eight o’clock, second level. Terrible job of concealment. If you’re going to blend in with stone, you can’t wear green camouflage pants. The other one was on the flat rooftop, trying for the eagle eye view, but he forgot that in silhouette, butt and shoulders are easy to see. The fourth was doing a fairly decent job if he hadn’t moved. And then there was the hidden one. The one beneath the sod. Fantastic sniper location. Great disguise. Virtually invisible...if he hadn’t coated himself with DEET first.

Some days, you just had to love a Hunter.

Len wasn’t carrying a duffle bag. He preferred a backpack. It was heavy. Loaded. He walked to a certain spot on the stone where sod shouldn’t be growing, unhooked his bag, and let it drop...to a satisfying crunch. He took one step backward, and – if he didn’t miss his guess – effectively stopped any crossbow action as the arrow was the casualty beneath his boot heel.

“So...hey! We’re here. The House of Fire. Set your tripod up, already. Time’s wasting, Stan-the-man!”

“On it.”

Len bent and started rifling through his bag. Two nine mils. Four packed spare clips. An AK-47. Spare rounds. Grenades. Combat knife. Yep. There it was. Finally. His newly purchased camera. Len’s didn’t have a fancy
f
/4.0 lens, so he settled with an
f
/2.8. Heck, if he set his shutter speed at 1/100, he’d get the same shot as Stan using 1/50 speed. Or so, the camera expert at the counter had advised him.

Wow. This place was really sweet. Eerie. Creepy. Atmospheric. And with the light rain falling, it added a nice layer of mist. That Hunter beneath the sod probably hated every second of it.

“Gloomy place, yes?” Len said it as he hung the clips on his belt. Shuffled around in the bag some more. Palmed a 9mm, and then stuck it in his underarm holster. He stuck the other in the back of his belt, just above his jacket hem.

“Double yes.”

“Hey, Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Pass the repellent.”

The guy looked over at him with raised brows. Len winked.

“Okay.”

The can sailed through the air, catching flicks from the last of the fading daylight, as well as a nice coating of rain. Len caught it with the left hand, and then stood, looping the camera strap over his head with his right and then hefting his camera. One handed. That camera expert guy was right. This was a great camera. It ought to be with that price tag. And it had an auto-focus. Point and shoot. Easy. Supposedly he’d have professional grade photos. And hell. He might as well get some picture taking in.

That was a great shot of the House of Fire. Len held the button down and took repeating shots, stopping only when his finger got tired. This was definitely the place. The sun was just going down. Their vampire was going to awaken any second now. He started subconsciously shaking the insect repellent spray can. He planned on pegging the lower three Hunters, leaving the top one for Stan. And he was starting with the asshole beneath him.

Wait...

A shadow slithered around the stone, passing almost imperceptibly along the tree root of a silk-cotton tree. Or maybe that one was a strangler fig tree. Didn’t really matter. Most of Ta Prohm was covered in tree roots, leaving it in a permanent state of decay. On purpose. According to those pamphlets, that was exactly what they’d had in mind when they’d first started preserving and restoring the place.

The shadow enlarged as a huge chunk of darkness loomed up a tree, gaining dimension and bulk at its base. He’d been wrong. This vampire didn’t come from the House of Fire. It was using the Hall of Dancers behind them. Shit. And if what he was seeing was accurate, this was one large vampire. No wonder they’d sent so many Hunters.

Len pointed the spray can down at the sod and started spraying.

CHAPTER TWO

The reaction was immediate and expected, although Sodman was a bit lankier than Len expected. It wasn’t much of an issue. He was doubled-over, coughing and hacking, and a scissor-kick later, he was flat on his back, with his nose kicked into his brain, pretty much silent. The move even saved Len from a headshot, although the bullet grazed the top of his ear, cauterizing as it went. It stung, but it was better than the alternative.

They were using silencers, too. Good. No reason to alert anyone, like Cambodian authorities, or other Hunters. Which did mean they probably had other ways of signaling for help. But that would take time, and they weren’t getting any. Len dove onto the ground, pulling the back 9mm as he went, rolled, and then nailed the idiot in green camo pants right in the forehead. Laser sights were a decided plus in this, too.

A thud somewhere to his right was Eagleman landing ungracefully. A glance proved that. Which left the guy hidden in the gloomy aperture. Len wasn’t sure Stan had even seen him, but the vampire certainly did. Akron had been specific with his description of this vampire. The bastard was vicious. And a complete badass. Dark spurts of liquid that were probably arterial spray shot out in heartbeat rhythm from where the man used to be standing. Len couldn’t quite make out the vampire. Laser sights had their limits, and an instant after his red light touched a dark form, Len got lifted and slammed against one of the temple walls. That hurt, and then it got hard to breathe as debris mixed with rain fell onto his head.

“Wait! I’m on your side!”

His voice was an octave higher than normal. He was surprised it worked. And Akron was a non-specific asshole. The entire enclave at VAL was probably having a huge laugh over this. This wasn’t a guy. This was one, smoking hot, vampire chick. Len got an eyeful before she hissed, letting him see a nice set of blood-coated fangs.

“Wait! Your side! Me. You. Uh...him.”

It was easy to gesture. She had him by the ribcage so his arms were free. He wasn’t at all sure where Stan was, so he sent a vague finger-point to his last location. But something had stopped her from making Len her next meal. He watched as she tipped her head, sending a slide of black hair over her shoulder. She had glossy, straight hair. Lengthy. He couldn’t see where it ended. He didn’t dare move his eyes to check. It was probably pitch black. As were her eyes. Really black. And she had some killer lashes, too. Figures. Len was looking at his private wet dream come to life, and he’d never even told anybody. Shit. It didn’t get much worse.

She pursed her mouth covering fangs with lush lips that were shaded a deep, red color. They gleamed as if she’d just applied wet gloss. And dang! She had one kissable pout.

Okay. It was getting worse.

Len swallowed and tried again, this time using newly-learned Khmer words. “Friends. You. Me. Us.”

 Stan started laughing. The vampire scrunched her brows and brought her head back upright. Len should have paid more attention to the Khmer language course.

“What did I say?” Len hissed.

“Something about restrooms and rice.”

“You speak Khmer?”

“Some.”

“Then you tell her! And before I lose blood flow to my dick. Okay?”

“You could just show her your tat.”

Oh great. Stan was an asshole, too. He didn’t say much, but when he did it was accurate. Smart. Pointed. And if he hadn’t chuckled through it, he wouldn’t be such an asshole. Len flipped him off before catching his jacket collar and t-shirt and yanking the right shoulder off and down. He probably should’ve opted for putting the tat on his wrist. Or a pec. Or even his neck, where it would be easily visible...but no. He’d wanted a full shoulder design. And that meant he had to pull and rip material, but it was the t-shirt collar that got damaged, and he’d only paid a buck forty for it at the dollar store in the first place. No sense wasting good fashion on a hunt. He let the vampires do that.

He watched her flick a glance to the VAL tattoo on his shoulder, and damn everything, if it didn’t look like her eyes widened for a bit before she looked back at him. And then she licked her lips. Len couldn’t stop the jerk his body made. All he could do was bluster his way around it, but before he even started, she spoke. And with a voice so vast and soul-sapping, it felt like even the rain stopped to listen.

“You’re with the Vampire Assassin League?”

“Yeah. Special Ops. And—what the hell? You speak English?”

“Oh yes.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you say so?”

“I just did.”

“I mean earlier.”

Uh oh. She was leaning toward his bared shoulder, sending his skin into all sorts of antics, and that included gooseflesh. She had her nose just beneath his jaw. This was insane. Len had prior and vast knowledge. Eight years of it. Vampires didn’t breathe. And they were cold. But he could swear his skin was feeling heat. And air. And all sorts of other stimuli.

“What’s a dick?”

Funny she should ask that. Right now, it was getting all sorts of signals he wasn’t sending, and making him wish he’d worn silk boxers and sweats, rather than cotton bum-huggers and twill slacks. Shit. Things were about to go places he didn’t ever go. Not with a vampire. He’d seen them in action too many times. He wasn’t remotely interested. N. O. Besides, he was only thirty-two years old. Forty sounded early enough to worry about wrinkles and aging and dementia... especially when the cure included blood-sucking reality.

And that meant he needed to get his mouth in gear and start blustering. Double time. He’d start with Stan and his snorts that were withheld laughter. Len preferred the guy’s silence.

“Shut up, Stan. It isn’t funny.”

“You want me to tell her?”

“No. I want you to start gathering gear, and then check for collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?”

“Yeah. Historic preservation-type damage. You know. Bullet holes in the rocks. That sort of thing.”

“I hit everything I aimed at.”

“No shit. Me, too. But I haven’t met a Hunter yet that was accurate.”

“Oh. Right. Where you going?”

“Well. Little Miss vampire here, is going to lower me back to the ground. And then we’re going to find her lair...and slow down there, sister. We don’t have time for a midnight snack.”

“Midnight snack?” she queried.

Damn! She would have the most astonishing voice. The most amazing eyes. One hell of a kissable mouth. And he really had to get his brain working.

“Later. Maybe. And that’s a big maybe. In the meantime, we gotta get you relocated.”

“But this is my home.”

“Not anymore it isn’t.”

“And you are going to use what army to move me?”

Great.
He didn’t just have a gorgeous, babe, vampire chick to handle. He had one who sent all kinds of unsolicited vibes his way and then topped it with arguments. All of that should cancel out the rampant testosterone overload he was experiencing. Or, at least make it manageable. He gestured over her shoulder at the grounds.

“See those Hunters out there?”

“Yes.”

“Well. They have friends. A lot of friends. Some of them are here, staked out throughout the place. That means they’re going to notice when four guys don’t answer the next check-in. And we’ll be lucky if it’s Hunters finding four dead bodies, and not some tourist who is probably just looking for the Stegosaurus stone said to be carved into the Ta Prohm Temple. Because if that happens, we’ll have an International inquiry to deal with. That will include major publicity on a global scale. Which does mean your sojourn at this temple of eternity here is over. And that is why humans are handling the situation and not one of the associates.”

“Three and a half,” she replied.

Damn it! There was that kissing shape again.
Focus, Man. Focus
. Len took a deep breath. That just expanded his lungs and ribcage, and that just got him more sensation as her palms held him up.

“Three and a half, what?” he asked.

“Bodies.”

“Your guy?”

She nodded.

“You left half a guy? Figures. Okay. Some poor tourist is going to stumble on three dead bodies and one pulverized corpse, and that’s really going to get some attention. You want to debate details some more? Oh. Trust me, babe. I’m your man. But we really need to get moving. I’ll help you pack. Or... screw that. I’ll just help Stan while you pack. Get moving. They probably check in every hour or so, and that gives us a window.”

“Every thirty minutes,” Stan supplied.

“Aren’t you supposed to be busy?” Len asked.

“Oh. I am. But I have great hearing.”

“Figures,” Len mumbled.

“They check in every thirty minutes. I heard it. We have about twelve left.”